


(I Can’t Help) Falling in Love

by viajeramyra



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Canon-AU, Fluff, M/M, Paris (City), Romantic Fluff, palermo just deserves happiness, what Berlermo deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viajeramyra/pseuds/viajeramyra
Summary: They don’t call Paris the city of love for nothing...
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126





	(I Can’t Help) Falling in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I get left alone too much with my own thoughts and feelings, and I away my brain goes. More than anything, I favor the idea of Martín getting any happiness he wants. With the timeline of the show, that pretty much means I gotta do it myself. 
> 
> So, without any further ado....

He twirled the bottle of wine between his fingers, his back leaned on the thin railing of their balcony overlooking the River Seine. From his spot outside, he could look in and see his friend, carefully tying together the silk threads of his tight bow tie around his neck. 

Ever since he had met Andrés six months ago, fresh off his third divorce, it had been nonstop nights spent going over plans. Tonight, Andrés had suggested taking the time to celebrate and enjoy life, not take everything so seriously. 

But, Martín had to admit he was feeling a little bored. 

He wasn’t sure what it was that had broken free inside him since he had met Andrés. Sure, his hands had never been clean before, but each new job had become a little more exciting, a little more daring. Time often moved in flashes and he scarcely remembered the details of his life—simply the rush he felt from each one. 

He watched as Andrés carefully combed back his hair, before he turned to smile at Martín. He felt his cheeks flush, as his gaze fell to the ground before his feet. He gently ran his empty hand across his bottom lip. 

A consequence of drinking too much of a potent bottle, he told himself. It was the only explanation for the way his heartbeat just a little harder as Andrés stepped onto the balcony. 

“My engineer, mi amigo,” he said pleasantly as he closed the glass door behind him. “I see you’ve gotten an early start without me.” He pressed his hand against his chest, faking insult. 

“It’s the only way to keep up with you,” he teased back, as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and finished the final swig. He looked up, only noticing then how close Andrés had decided to stand next to him. If he stood upright, it would close the small distance between them, their arms brushing gently against the others. 

He swallowed hard, suddenly overcome by an unfamiliar rush of nerves. He wasn’t sure why he felt this way. Standing outside in the suns final rays of the day, the sky streaked in an array of pale pinks, bold reds, soft oranges, and a tint of purple, Notre Dame in the distance, all he could look at from the corner of his eye was the fascinating man standing next to him. 

Andrés wore a tailored green suit jacket, over white shirt with a few black lines detailing it. The bow tie called attention to his long, thin neck, and seemed to make his brown eyes pop.

Martín shook the thought from his head. Andrés always looked good. That was nothing new, and he was certain he wouldn’t be so aware of it if he hadn’t drunken so much red wine. 

He looked back at Andrés from the corner of his eye, who had kept his gaze on Martín. He knew Andrés had a habit for paying attention to every detail, assessing every moment and analyzing it in his mind. He was often able to read everyone around him like an open book, but Martín hoped he couldn’t read him in that moment. He was certain the tangled web of things running through his head would put a damper on their evening. 

“Martín,” Andrés’ tone commanded his attention, but he took a moment to step just a few more inches from his friend as he stood up straight. “Are you feeling alright?” 

The genuine concern in Andrés’ voice coupled with the fact he hadn’t take his eyes off him made a small bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He itched to reach up to his black turtleneck, and pull the collar away from him. His nerves were wrecked, to say the least. 

It was then he managed to find his strength once more, and finally meet Andrés’ gaze. He briefly saw the faintest hint that perhaps Andrés felt it was his fault that Martín had suddenly started to act like he’d never carried on a conversation before. Too many assumed Andrés was not the type to be self-conscious, but in the past few months he had come to recognize that he had a few more human emotions than he let on.

Reaching to gently squeeze his friends hand, Martín smiled brightly. “I believe we have dinner reservations.” 

Andrés nodded, his confidence evident once more in his posture. The two walked step-for-step down to the lobby of their hotel, while they waited for a cab to arrive. “We deserve a night to celebrate our success, Martín. My talents have greatly improved since that brain of yours joined my team. My brilliant engineer.” 

Martín felt a little shiver run it’s course down his spine. His brain did funny little things he never completely understood when Andrés called him by his pet name. His engineer. It should make him feel like Andrés was trying to assert his dominance over him; but truth be told, he would be a willing participant. 

And he’d already had it twice in one night.

The car ride to the restaurant was mostly filled in silence. He tried to focus on the views of the city rushing past his window, but he found himself hyper focused on Andrés’ chiseled jaw instead. He cursed himself, wishing the feelings would subside. It was all superficial, the recent attraction. They called Paris the city of love, after all, and Martín had always been a sucker for a well dressed man in good lighting. 

It’d pass. Whatever this sudden onrush of emotions were, it had to pass. This partnership between them, the deep understanding, and their quick bond meant more to him than any relationship ever had. He clung desperately to the fear that one ill placed move would bring it all down. Lust wasn’t a good enough reason to put it all on the line like that. 

“You’re quiet tonight, Martín. Normally I can’t get you to shut up.” Andrés words were slow, his right eyebrow raised slightly as he looked back at his friend. “We can go back to the hotel if you’re not well.” 

Martín shook his head, immediately opening his door the moment the car came to a stop. “Just thinking about our next job,” he assured him under his breath. Andrés eyes narrowed. Martín knew he didn’t like being lied to, but what else was he supposed to do? 

“Very well,” Andrés replied, as he slammed his door roughly behind him. Martín heard the driver shout something, but Andrés was already too far out of earshot. Martín waved his hand in an apology, as he followed him inside. 

Martín thought back briefly to their last heist. Andrés had hired a few others to join them, and started to get rather close to one of the women on the team. He had tried very hard not to let it get on his last nerve. It had called for Andrés to take her out on his arm, soft touches shared between the two of them. It had been enough to make him sick. He wasn’t sure why all that had been necessary, and couldn’t understand what was so interesting about her anyway. 

He shook the memory from his head as quickly as it came. She wasn’t here with them, had run off just as soon as the job was finished. Andrés hadn’t mentioned her, hadn’t mentioned any interest in anyone as of late. He was grateful for it. 

“Why?” He found the question floating around in his head, “do you think it is you are so grateful, Martín?” 

He sighed as he rounded the corner in the restaurant, Andrés already sitting at their table ordering some poor waiter around impatiently. For as callous as Andrés was with most people, he never seemed to be that way with Martín. He rarely made mistakes, any miscalculations during their heists. But, he had been slow to coming up with some solutions. Still, Andrés never failed to be patient with him. Never failed to encourage him with bright smiles, soft touches, and nights out to clear his head. 

And Martín had fallen in love with him for it. 

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and made him want to duck behind a corner, make an ungraceful exit from the restaurant. The sudden knowledge made more sense than simply fighting his unspoken attraction to his friend. After all, almost everyone was attracted to Andrés. He was charming when he wanted to be, his deep voice both unique and smooth, intoxicating to the ear. His features and dress had been the first thing Martín had noticed about him, had been what lead to him even talking to Andrés in the bar on Palermo. 

He bit down hard on his tongue, almost drawing a bit of blood. He wouldn’t just run out on his friend. The thought was a ridiculous overreaction. He could act normal, and enjoy their time together. He put his best foot forward, pulling out the seat across from Andrés and looking intently at his menu. 

He could feel the heat of Andrés eyes, looking at him as he tried to read the situation. He took a deep breath, slowly his heartbeat and trying to get their evening back on track. He could do this, he could do this. 

“Did I do something to offend you, Martín?” 

Maybe he couldn’t do this after all. Andrés wasn’t the type to care so much about the consequences of his actions, but it had been a recurring theme all evening since Martín had started to spin out. 

He put his menu down, looking Andrés in the eye. “Quite the opposite. You only ever do things the right way.” 

The two look at each other, quietly for a moment. Andrés’ lip curled up into a gentle smile. “Listen, Martín. I don’t care about people. They’re replaceable, and often unnecessary. My younger brother was the only person I wanted around, until I met you.” 

Martín could feel his heart pounding, his foot gently tapping the floor as he tried not to get too over excited. This wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but the until I met you threatened to send his secrets spilling out of him.

“If there is something you need to tell me, you can just get it over with,” he finished, as he picked up his glass of white wine. 

“You’re a good partner, Andrés,” he replied, slowly. “A good friend. The best I’ve ever had,” he mumbled quietly, fumbling with his cloth napkin. 

“Then what is the problem,” Andrés snapped, his voice impatient but the look in his eyes contradicting it. His features were filled with concern, from the way he purposely looked at Martín, quietly waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. He wanted the truth, and Martín could tell he was trying his best not to yell the way he might’ve had it been someone else. 

“IthinkI’mfallinginlovewithyou,” Martín stuttered out. 

They maintained eye contact for a moment, Martín’s face flushed white. Andrés blinked once, as he set down his glass. He looked up, a soft chuckle vibrating his chest. 

Martín wanted to die. 

He sunk lower into his seat, utterly pissed at himself. He knew better, damn it. He was smarter than this. So much smarter than this. 

Time seemed to drag on so slowly, hours ticking by as the image of Andrés chuckling kept repeating itself. He flattened his palms on the table, ready to push off it and run. 

Until he felt two fingers gently pressed on his wrist. “Martín, do you think I’d have taken you to the nicest restaurant in Paris if I didn’t have feelings for you?” 

“Then why didn’t you say anything!” His voice was pleading, his eyes focused on Andrés fingers, now gently caressing his hand. 

“I figured you were smart enough to know on your own,” he chuckled once more, shrugging. His free hand reached out, gently taking Martín’s chin to look up at him once more. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, please.” 

“I didn’t think you would...” he trailed off, his brain unable to function under Andrés’ intense gaze. 

“How long would you have waited to tell me? Five years? Ten?” He teased, a mischievously proud smile settling across his features. 

“Forever, as long as I thought it would’ve cost me you,” Martín replied sheepishly. 

Andrés settled back into his seat, the tips of his fingers intertwined with Martín’s. “You have a lot to learn.” He added.

By the time their food came, both men seemed to push it around on their plates. Andrés never let go of Martín’s hand, and he wasn’t about to either. His non-dominant hand tried to maintain a strong grip on his fork, but it wasn’t good enough. He didn’t want to make a mess of his shirt, and eventually gave up trying to eat altogether. Andrés had taken a few more bites than him, but kept returning to his drink and kept his gaze on Martín more often than not. He signaled the waiter over, ready for the cheque. 

“I think we can come up with something better to do with our evening,” Andrés whispered, smirking playfully at Martín. “Or, at least I’m sure _you_ can.” 

Martín nodded, thinking about the soft bed back at their posh hotel. The pair stumbled out of the restaurant, into the first cab they could grab. Hands threatened to make quick work of each other then and there, Andrés almost challenging him to do so. 

Martín’s finger gently traced the collar of Andrés’ shirt. Much like the restaurant, they stumbled out of the cab and up the stairs to their room with very little space between them. 

The moment the door closed behind them, Martín pushed Andrés’ back against the wall. His hands were quick to capture the sides of his love’s face, kissing him desperately. His mind wondered for just a second how long he had pained for this moment, this simple opportunity. His ability to form coherent thoughts melted away as he sunk further against Andrés’ warm body, the kiss inviting, as it commanded all of his strength, all of his attention. Andrés tasted of sweet, fancy wine he had been drinking all night. He could feel the buzz of the kiss and alcohol dancing on the tip of his tongue. 

Martín’s nose filled with Andrés’ vanilla-wood cologne. It was exhilarating, overwhelmed his senses as if the kiss wasn’t enough. Andrés’s hands were pressed firmly against his back, keeping him in place as if he needed any help staying glued in that moment. 

When they finally broke for air, Andrés slowly dragged his lips to Martín’s ear, and whispered, “we could’ve been doing this a long time ago.” 

Martín laughed, his forehead falling to nuzzle Andrés’ shoulder. This surrender of power was something he was unfamiliar with. Something about Andrés being so willing to give all control, all action resting in Martín’s hands, made him weak in the knees. He was certain Andrés wouldn’t have done the same with anyone else. 

“I apologize,” he whispered back. “I won’t make you wait again.” 

By the time the light of morning started to break through their room, Andrés’ head was tucked gently on Martín’s bare chest. The two were tangled, warm and happy between the soft sheets. Hours had passed by in minutes, leaving both of them devoid of any energy.

Martín could get used to this. 


End file.
